


A Simple Want

by Kendrickhier



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, PWP, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 18:09:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13529763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kendrickhier/pseuds/Kendrickhier
Summary: Astra and Alex have to share a bed. Sleeping is, decidedly, not the first thing they do.





	A Simple Want

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alittlelesspain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alittlelesspain/gifts).



> Part of a gif-fic collab with alittlelesspain, gifset currently unavailable but I will link it when it's back up. This was way out of my comfort zone, but always nice to collaborate on something ^_^

Astra is pressed up against a door, feverish lips seeking her out and meeting hers, hands on her hips that are supposed to keep her pinned against the surface. A futile endeavor, really, but it gives Alex the illusion of control she so desires at the moment, and Astra is more than happy in the position she’s currently in. A hand is gripping Alex’s hair at the nape of her neck, pulling her in further, kissing her more deeply, tongues pressing against each other, swirling, like a strange combination of a dance and a wrestle match with its push and pull.

This development had been quick and sudden, the tension between them reaching entirely new heights after a mission gone wrong, until they’d simply snapped when appointed a single room for the both of them. In the haze of rough lips moving against her own, and a hand coming up to palm at her breasts, Astra can’t for the life of her remember how exactly they got here. Mostly because she simply doesn’t care; the only thing that matters is that they are here, that Alex is kissing her right in this moment, and that it’s most certainly going to lead to more.

The hand that isn’t tangled in her hair, that has been resting on Alex’s shoulder blade, moves down to the hem of her shirt, crawling underneath it and snaking up on warm and bare skin. Alex shudders at the sensation of Astra’s hand trailing up her side, the shirt moving up with it, until she meets the band of her bra. The kiss grows in intensity, the hand at her breast palming with more purpose, and for a moment Astra forgets what she intended to do, simply getting lost in the sensation. A low moan rips from her throat, vibrating against Alex’s lips. Astra decides to nip at her bottom lip in retaliation.

She remembers herself then, moving both hands to the hem of Alex’s shirt and dragging it up slowly. Neither wants to break their kiss, but Astra wants Alex out of her clothes more; luckily Alex has the same idea and pulls back so Astra can pull the fabric over her head.

That’s all the time they spend apart until Alex lunges back in, teeth clashing at the impatience, though they hardly take notice, wrapped up in each other and their intense desire. It’s not love, but Astra knows it’s not hatred either; it’s a simple want that has been there for as long as she’s met Alex. In the moment it is only increasing, especially now that Alex is reaching for the zipper of her suit and tries to get her out of it.

Astra allows that much, stepping out of the fabric, before one glance at Alex tells the Kryptonian that she is wearing too many clothes, and it’s going to take much too long to take all of them off at this rate. She wants Alex bare, there on the bed behind her, and she wanted it yesterday. And so she decides to take care of this problem.

Alex has hardly reattached herself to Astra—leaving open-mouthed kisses and nips at her jawline this time, a clothed leg pressing against her center—before Astra works her back, using her superspeed to not only shed Alex of her holsters and offending clothing, but also herself of hers. It takes less than a second this way, Alex settled on her back in the bed while she barely manages to squeak out an unsettled “Astra!”

Astra is hovering above her with pupils so dilated her eyes may as well be completely black, meeting Alex’s. She holds back long enough to ask, “Are you complaining?”

The woman below her worries her lower lip for a brief moment, after which she replies, “No.”

“Good.” Just like that Astra leans back down, kissing her again, the two of them quickly getting back to that heated kiss they were previously engaged in.

Before long Astra moves down from her mouth to her jaw and then her neck, until she’s biting down on the jugular relatively lightly, but in reality hard enough to have Alex claw her nails across her back with a hiss. Her knee returns between Astra’s thighs, grinding up. Both their hands are roaming across each other’s skin, pinching a nipple, leaving scratch marks, squeezing, occasional moans resounding.

Astra’s hand moves down, raking across toned abs, and slip to Alex’s center. The wetness she finds there has her groan, just as Alex moans at the feather-light pressure. That pressure isn’t light for long as Astra gets to work barely a moment later, thumb circling her clit and remaining fingers stroking through her folds, until she slips in her middle finger, prompting a drawn out moan.

Alex isn’t going to let Astra do all the work however; using the leg against the woman’s center as leverage she flips them over, onto their sides rather than either of them on top. As Astra pistons in and out of her Alex returns the favor in kind, the wetness on her leg plenty of evidence as to just how ready Astra was for her.

It becomes almost a competition of seeing who could get the other off first.

Second fingers slip in with ease, the frequency of their moans increasing. Astra’s other hand is settled on Alex’s hip, gripping for some sort of purchase, and Alex has taken to nipping at Astra’s neck. She mirrors the earlier bite, biting down on Astra’s pulse point _hard_ , and Astra groans under the combination of sensations. She tries to give as good as she gets, finding Alex’s sweet spot as her hand grips harder, until Alex cries out.

It takes a moment of still fingers and a high-pitched, “Astra, too hard!” for her to realize it’s not in pleasure, and her hand immediately retreats as if burned, her other hand stilling.

In the onslaught she’d forgotten she needed to hold back more than she did, and Astra throws a quick x-ray glance to check on Alex’s hip—it’s fine, there are no fractures or cracks—as she apologizes, “Shit, Alex, I’m so—“

Alex kisses her before she can finish that sentence. She rolls them over again, Alex on top this time, and she bites and tugs at an earlobe while crooking her fingers into that sensitive part that makes Astra rather vocal. Her free hand grips Astra’s free hand, dragging it above her head and keeping it there.

It’s reassuring enough for Astra to continue, fingers once again in motion, but this time with a carefully controlled force. As careful as she can manage at the very least, because Alex is very good at what she’s doing, and there’s frankly not all that much thought or control left by the end of it. They work each other to the brink in no time when the mood appears intact, and it’s Alex that topples over first, though Astra is quick to follow, crying out each other’s name not for the last time that night.

\-----

Astra wakes late in the morning, quite unlike usual. When she rolls over to look at the body beside her, last night very clear in her mind, she finds Alex already looking at her. “Were you watching me sleep?”

Alex hums, “It helped me think.”

There’s no need to ask what she’s been thinking about. Astra knows enough about humans and their affairs by now that there are all but two options typical for this situation; a no feelings attached one time deal (which Kara can never know about), or a sudden pouring out of all the feelings involved. Alex doesn’t look particularly regretful, so that, at least, is promising. “You’re not about to confess your undying love for me, are you?” Astra drawls.

“Would that be such a bad thing?” There’s an amused grin on her face as Alex says this, but nothing to either confirm or debunk the statement. The levity of it does implicate the idea of being with Astra doesn’t revolt her however, which is something.

“I suppose there are worse things.” Her voice trails off a little, vision wandering back to Alex’s hip, even though they are both below the blankets. There is nothing to see, but Astra knows what she’ll find without looking: deep bruising that will only grow darker as the day progresses, a mark of her momentary lapse of control combined with the frailty of a human. “I truly am sorry for this,” Astra says as she reaches out, gently placing a hand on the injured hip.

There’s no hiss or contorting of Alex’s face whatsoever. In fact, it only seems to prompt a smile. “Don’t be. It’s flattering, in a way.”

Questioning eyebrows rise. “Is that so?”

Alex hums again, and that smile widens to a grin. “Oh yeah. Being able to make a Kryptonian lose control like that? Major confidence boost.”

Astra’s feeling of guilt eases up, and her facial features relax into something more relieved. She’s about to retort something that could very possibly lead to a fourth round of what they’ve been up to when a the noise of a vibrating device resounds briefly.

With a reluctant sigh Alex reaches out to it and checks it out. “It’s J’onn. We gotta move.”

And just like that, their professional demeanor returns, like nothing ever happened between them. After their departure this incident doesn’t come back up, and if anyone is able to tell they don’t let onto it—J’onn doesn’t even throw them one of his knowing looks. Everything is simply back to normal, including their bickering.

Nothing has changed, yet everything has, for this won’t be the only time they take care of that tension like this. They don’t talk about it, not really, but they don’t have to; they know this is something between just the two of them, and they know it doesn’t have to mean anything.

And it doesn’t.

Or does it?


End file.
